mars

any prns/祂• DEATH TO THE EMPIRE ☭ • diaspora/postcolonial/marxist feminist/disability/gender studies, poetry, art, literature, cats

[ju4ncito-deactivated20230804]

i WILL sleep through the rest of my days

[sinnainn]

soap is behind the camera obviously

[libbyframe]

Confused cat

[lycaniums-room]

*makes another silly little poster*

[elladastinkardiamou]

Athens

Photo by Athens Vibe - athensvibe.gr

[begottaum]

“Please bring strange things. Please come bringing new things. Let very old things come into your hands. Let what you do not know come into your eyes. Let desert sand harden your feet. Let the arch of your feet be the mountains. Let the paths of your fingertips be your maps and the ways you go be the lines on your palms. Let there be deep snow in your inbreathing and your outbreath be the shining of ice. May your mouth contain the shapes of strange words. May you smell food cooking you have not eaten. May the spring of a foreign river be your navel. May your soul be at home where there are no houses. Walk carefully, well loved one, walk mindfully, well loved one, walk fearlessly, well loved one. Return with us, return to us, be always coming home.”

—

- Ursula K. Le Guin

[holyisthenameofmyruthlessaxe]

“Love will turn on the lover and gnaw.”

— Great Expectations, Kathy Acker (via holyisthenameofmyruthlessaxe)

[p9sh-blog]

[soracities]

Inger Christensen, Alphabet

[boxheadpaint]

[lunchboxpoems]

LIST OF THINGS TO SAY INSTEAD OF “I’M FINE”

my blood moves like tectonic plates: so slow one might not notice, but notice first, please, before the earthquake. * i have always been afraid of waves, how they say: i know                                                                 what it’s like to crumble                                                        over myself and hear my crashing simply called                                                                   beautiful * the syncopation of my heart’s           swung notes is more than                                                                               metronome. but not quite a full      song, either. * i woke up this morning as a houseplant not watered in weeks. when i tried to move, wilted pieces of brown flesh crumbled onto the carpet, waited there for the vacuum. * i am tired                      of how this skin makes lonely, how afraid i am that i’ll say i’m        black and scared                         and no one will listen—that i will say i am proud                        and be perceived therefore as threat. * today is that ice cube song, but because a good day means so much forgetting. * something in this city is always on fire. before the neighbor’s car it was the house around the corner. before that, the trash can on the curb the night before garbage day. * remember playing the floor is lava? like that, except the lava is also the walls and ceiling and furniture. maybe moses’ feet were burned when he removed his sandals at the feet of the bush. what saint has not lived constant pain? * hansel and gretel left bread crumbs when they should have left a trail of blood, held their faces down and admitted they were lost. * i no longer have to meet yearly with the cardiologist. i will not miss the tug of ekg stickers pulling off body hair, but i miss the jelly on chest, the dull pressure of the instrument pressing skin around ribs and sternum, to see my center on a screen— yes, there are parts in here that are pumping, working, despite. 

MARLIN M. JENKINS

[uzhas]

[maomimoth]

need...

[buboplague]

asphyxiate 

[maomimoth]

the colors omggggg

[lokorum]

different kinds of stars

support me on boosty if you have a coin to spare! (๑•͈ᴗ•͈)

[csms-jpg]

Some stars from my journals

[metamorphesque]

― Clarice Lispector, Água Viva

[text ID: I am obscure to myself. I let myself happen. I unfold only in the now. I am rudely alive.]

[stinkybrowndogs]

Oh hey look at these dogs

Inprnt

[corpserots]

── Tom Stoppard, 1996

[text ID: We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered. ]

[maomimoth]

omg real.... and time isnt.